Working Together
by BereniceAndrea
Summary: Coulson's team is faced with a mysterious and dangerous mission. They decided to bring Strike Team Delta in, but Clint and Natasha don't know Coulson is alive. They react very differently.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I'm sad to report I still do not own any of this characters.**

**A/N: **First of all, it's a long one and I wanna make it multi chapter because I had a few cool ideas for the actual mission. It is my first fic involving AOS characters (except for Coulson) because, even though I love and read about them (Hi Annie!) I don't feel comfortable writing them yet. I always try to stay true to a character but I honestly feel like a new babysitter playing with kids that are not my own, so forgive me in advance. Really, really forgive me.

* * *

'Damn it' Skye hit the table with her palm and made a face while shaking the now red hand rapidly. She focused back on the screen in front of her. 'I'm sorry A.C, I can't get in'. She was frustrated. Not being able to hack through was not in her résumé and she didn't like the bittersweet taste of being in the dark about an already dangerous mission. They were not prepared.

Coulson sighed. He nodded repeatedly at Skye, acknowledging the meaning of it but didn't say a word. Next to him, Grant Ward volunteered. 'Sir, I should be the one going in. Alone. I'm the specialist.' He stepped forward and placed both his hands on the table in front of Skye's laptop. She looked at him. 'Ward, that's suicide! We don't even know what the place is like inside, let alone what you're gonna find there.' Her frustration rose in anger. Ward could be an idiot sometimes.

'Skye's right' Coulson intervened. 'I'm not sending you in'. Ward opened his mouth to protest but didn't get the chance. 'And it's not up for discussion'. Coulson turned around and headed to his office, closing the door behind him.

Around midnight, Phil finally came out of hiding. He went straight to Skye.

'Hey' he greeted when he found her typing away on her laptop in her assigned bed on the Bus. 'Got a sec?' She stopped and looked up at him, moving to give him space to sit. He took the invitation. She waited for him to speak. Finally, he said 'what's the intel? I wanna go through everything again'. She gave him a look that clearly stated 'again? Are you kidding?' but instead, she typed a few words and started reading.

'Little unpronounceable town outside Moscow, Russia. Known drug lord and gentleman's club owner is thought to run a prostitution ring using his club as cover.' She stopped to look at him, searching approval of the initial data they gathered in case he just wanted the latest specifics. Coulson simply nodded her to continue. 'Two months ago a body was found at the club, one of his most frequent clients with traces of a never seen before drug on his system. Simmons matched some of the components to both the super soldier serum and… this' She turned the laptop so he could see.

'Whatever that is, it's not from here' Coulson stated, staring at the picture on the screen.

'Alien sex drug' Skye teased. 'Asgardian?'

'Don't know, but FitzSimmons proved constant use is killing these gentlemen.'

'Right' Skye read a bit more 'Hair from the victims proved they'd been using for at least one month prior the first death.' She continued. 'Twelve more bodies have been found but apparently this guy owns Russia or something because I can't find a single thing on him. He's not even on Facebook.' Her frustration showed in her voice again. 'Anyway, victims all had evidence of intercourse prior to their deaths and it's a prostitution ring so…' Skye finished.

'That's all?' he was afraid of that. 'We don't even have a map of the building? Know anything about this drug lord? His crew? How many they are? Not even a name?'

'I'm telling you, this runs deep. I've only found one shitty picture of the guy and it's all blurry and black and white. All I can make of it is he's between 30 and 40, medium built, kind of good looking' She showed him the picture in question. He had to agree you couldn't make much of it. 'Name's Alexei Zadornov'

Coulson didn't answer, which made Skye all the more frustrated. She went back to hacking her way through what she named the Russian Alien Sex Drug Conspiracy of 2014.

'Keep working' Phil said as he left, not noticing Skye was not willing to give up and already back to work. He passed by May on the way to his office. She followed him worriedly with her eyes.

It was 2 am when he went to sleep, sinking into the silence of the bus.

The next morning Phil was a man on a mission. He had already decided the course of action and nothing was going to stop him. He saw Skye by the counter having cereal and coffee for breakfast with FitzSimmons and Ward and he greeted them all. May was nowhere to be seen.

'Skye, I need you on this. Top priority.' He said. Simmons was serving him a cup of coffee which he kindly accepted.

'What is it?' Fitz tried to take a peek at the piece of paper Coulson had passed.

'An address' He smiled into his coffee.

'That's not an address' Skye stated, blanked face when she read it.

'No, I need you to find me one.' She blinked repeatedly. This particular mission was exciting and she grinned. 'Either one. I'm willing to bet it's the same.' He smirked at Ward's confused face trying to reach over to Skye.

He read out loud. 'Clint Barton. Natasha Romanoff.' He stared at Coulson and blinked repeatedly. Coulson explained. 'I need Strike Team Delta for this'.

'Strike Team Delta?' Skye asked at Coulson, but it was Ward who answered.

'Barton and Romanoff. They were SHIELD'S best team. Everyone knows that' He looked at her like she had offended him by not knowing. Ward was being a fanboy.

'They were my team, actually. I was their handler, until…' Coulson told them. 'Until I died.'

'You…' it was Simmons' turn to look at him like he was Santa Claus handling presents on Christmas. 'You handled the Black Widow and Hawkeye, sir?' She smiled, incredulously.

Coulson nodded. He missed his old team sometimes.

As Skye started typing on her laptop faster than ever (Ok, she was overly excited), May came from behind Coulson. 'They don't even know you're alive'. Coulson turned around, coffee still in hand.

They all looked at her. 'Time they did'. He finally said. It had been above their clearance, but now that Coulson was Director, he had chosen to oversight that detail.

Melina moved her head from side to side disapprovingly. 'It's not that easy. You didn't see them at your funeral. Barton was a mess. They're not going to forgive you that easy, Phil.' He felt a sucker punch to the gut. Clint and Natasha were his team and two of the most emotionally troubled people he knew. They considered him family, and he had died on them and had stayed dead. They had mourned him and now he was going to reappear into their lives like nothing had happened because he needed them. They didn't deserve that. Coulson's jaw clenched.

'Got it' His thoughts were interrupted by Skye, turning her computer so that Coulson could see their location on the screen.

'Wheels up' he said to May. She went to the cabin and put the Bus in motion.

Natasha was pacing around their apartment in a not nosey little town in the outsides of Vermont while Clint watched TV on the sofa. It had been a few months since her trial after the whole Hydra thing and the first thing she'd done had been to extract Clint from his mission and get into hiding. They were laying low together. _Together_ together. It had happened a few months before the Potomac incident, which was still relatively new to the pair. They were used to everything but domesticity, but there was a reassuring side to it, being around each other like that. It was always down to the two of them. It always had been.

It was starting to get dark outside. Natasha opened the fridge to find it next to empty. 'Hey I'm gonna run down to the market to buy something.' She talked as she walked towards Clint, coming from behind him and placing her hands around his neck and resting them on his chest. He smiled and looked up at her, planting a kiss to her lips. Natasha protested as his mouth moved away from hers so he repeated his action, parting her lips with his tongue hungrily.

When they pulled away, fire still in her eyes and he unspoken promise of a lot more action when she returned, she asked 'what do you want?'

He smirked. 'You'.

'To eat' she clarified, also smirking.

'Still you'. She rolled her eyes but smiled, keys already in hand as she walked straight to the mini market down the street.

When she was paying (all cash) for the beer and few edible items they both liked, a second customer walked into the store. She looked at him from the corner of her eye as he was checking her out. Tall guy, broad shoulders, dark hair, pretty face.

She smirked at the guy, playing along while inspecting whether or not he seemed to have any sort of weapons under his clothes. She did that with everyone, categorizing people friend or foe from a glance.

There was something about the guy that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand. She slowly turned around to leave, ready for anything to happen, but nothing did. Still, as she walked out, she noticed the guy's attitude was off to be a regular guy; no items picked up to actually buy and when she looked over her shoulder for a last assessment as she left, he wasn't checking out her ass (which she was used to), he was checking which building she went into.

She smirked for real this time. 'So… foe' she thought to herself. She was the Black Widow. Let him come; she was ready.

He walked up the stairs to the third floor, where she had got off of the elevator, and walked the hall until the 12th apartment, were one could go either left, towards apartments 13th and 14th, or right, to apartments 15th and 16th. He looked at both sides and followed his gut. He went left.

Suddenly, Grant Ward was painfully pinned against a wall with a ridiculously sharp knife to his throat. 'Who the hell are you?' A very angry Natasha Romanoff asked and he was suddenly a bit afraid. He didn't have time to answer, though.

'He's with me' Phil Coulson appeared to his right, both hands held together. Romanoff didn't move. She blinked repeatedly at the older Agent.

'Natasha, let him go' Phil looked at her and then at Ward, but didn't move any closer.

She loosened her grip on Ward and he set himself free. She walked in a straight line, mesmerized at what she had first considered a ghost of some kind until they were standing face to face. Phil's demeanor changed and he smiled with both his lips and eyes to the redheaded spy.

She slapped him, leaving a red mark of five fingers on his cheek. Ward was about to pin her down when Coulson gave him a look and moved his head side to side. Next thing he knew, they were hugging, Coulson smiling like a proud father and Natasha actually crying on his shoulder. He was patting her back too.

'You…' Natasha managed to say after a while, wiping away the tears. 'I heard Fury declare you. I went to your funeral. What the hell Phil, you're alive?' she demanded answers and she deserved them.

Phil handed her a tissue. 'I died' he offered. 'In New York. Fury brought me back, but it was kept a secret. I'm sorry Natasha. I really am.' His voice had even a kinder tone.

She nodded and hugged him again. 'I… We lost you, Phil. Clint…' she stopped and looked at the man in front of her. Phil nodded.

'Where is he? I need to talk to both of you'

'He blamed himself. He broke down, Coulson. It took me months to even get him to talk to me.' She wasn't blaming him as much as she was explaining what they had both been through, just like they used to do after terribly difficult missions. It usually involved alcohol, too.

'I'm sorry Nat.' Phil repeated and hugged the redhead once more. She hugged him back.

Ward felt weird. He had heard legends of the Black Widow, even seen her training a couple of times in headquarters, but the woman in front of him looked so hurt, and tiny and just… human. Moreover, Coulson had just called her Nat. That was plain weird. There was something so informal about their relationship he didn't understand.

A minute later she was heading them to her apartment. 'Two floors up' she said when they reached the stairs. Coulson gave Ward a 'you didn't actually expect her to attack you at her own door' look.

'Who's the bodyguard?' she asked, regaining her posture.

'Agent Grant Ward, meet Agent Natasha Romanoff' Coulson introduced.

She smiled at Ward. 'Sorry about the knife' she wasn't.

She stopped when they reached door 38, and both men mirrored her. She turned around to face Coulson, serious and deadly. 'He was unmade, Phil. It took a long time for him to even let me pick up the pieces' she threaten. 'If you break him…'

Phil smiled before she could finish the sentence. God he missed them. 'I wouldn't expect anything less' he reassured her and nodded towards the resting arrow necklace by her collarbone. She nodded.

'Wait here' she entered the apartment alone.

Clint turned around when the door opened. The TV was still on but he wasn't watching. 'What took you so long? I was starting to get worried… and hungry' he joked but she didn't smile.

She left the grocery bag on the counter and sat next to him. He frowned, worriedly. 'Clint…' she looked at his eyes and took his hand with her own. She didn't know how to do this and she was afraid to break him again.

'What's wrong?' he asked.

'There's someone here…' she realized her choice of words had been a mistake as soon as he jumped to get his bow and quiver. She stood up and placed her hands on his forearms, reassuringly. 'Not hostile… A friend…' she said. 'I really don't know how to explain, so…'

She got to the door and opened it. Phil Coulson walked in, sharp black suit, very much not dead. Natasha swallowed hard as she stared at Clint.

He didn't even notice a second guy behind Phil as he slowly walked to his handler, using his right index finger to poke him, making sure he wasn't a hallucination while everyone followed his action with their eyes thoroughly. He looked at Natasha incredulous and she nodded at him, smiling and with tears in her eyes.

He smiled as wide as he could and hugged Coulson and laughed as his handler hugged him back, like it was his own birthday.

Clint and Natasha were sitting on the couch, side by side, holding hands. Nat's head rested on Clint's shoulder. A single tear rolled down his face as he stared at his handler, still not quite willing to believe he wasn't dreaming. Phil was sitting in a chair in front of them, smiling.

'Agent Ward, you can go wait outside' he said without breaking eye contact with them. He turned to face Ward, standing by the door, when he added 'I'll call you to bring the car around'. Ward nodded and left.

When the door closed behind him, Phil looked back at his old team. 'How long? He asked and gave a little nod to their entwined fingers.

Natasha smiled. 'A couple of months'

He smiled, approvingly. 'It was about time' he said and went straight to business. His face went serious. He sat upright and went on full debriefing mode. 'I need you guys…'

* * *

**A/N: So the mission stuff I know it's a big what? and I never intended to actually go beyond this, but I kind of joined a few mission ideas I had in my mind so I might actually go through with the Russian Alien Sex Drug Conspiracy of 2014. Btw, I actually considered that name for the title but then I said no... Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of this character. I do own some of these poorly written ideas.**

**A/N: **I know. It's been forever. I apologize times infinity. Thank you for coming back. I was having a hard time getting my mission facts straight before I could continue, but it's all becoming more and more clear so thank you for staying with me. And thank all of those kind words that honestly made me get my shit together and keep going with this :)

Ok, so this one is purely mission debrief, more to myself than anything else, but after this comes the fun.

* * *

Agent Melinda May was sitting on the couch on the Bus with a book on her hands. Since they had a few hours before Coulson and Ward returned (hopefully still in one piece, and hopefully with Barton and Romanoff), she was trying to catch up on some reading. She had just started part III of Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment when she couldn't take it any longer. She put the book down, took a deep breath as she closed her eyes. 'Could you please…' she stared at Skye who had been nervously pacing around the lounge for the last 15 minutes moving her fingers frantically '… stop pacing?'

Skye realized May was talking to her and sat on the couch in front of her, tense as ever. 'It's just so nerve wracking' she started talking really fast to May and Melinda rolled her eyes as she tried to go back to her book. 'What do you think it's taking them so long?' May didn't answer. 'You know them, right? Barton and Romanoff? What are they like?'

May came to terms with the fact that she wasn't going to do much reading after all. She put the book down for good and looked at Skye and offered her half a smile. 'A pain in the ass'. They were annoying as hell when they weren't busy with missions. Barton made a mission out of bothering everyone. 'They'll be fine, Skye'. She tried to reassure the newest member of their team.

'Yeah, but you said that they weren't gonna to forgive Coulson, what if they-'

'Easily. I said they weren't going to forgive him easily.'

Fitz and Simmons came running straight from the lab. 'They're coming back!' Fitz said excitedly.

'Did Ward call?' Skye inquired, checking her own phone for messages. May got up and headed to the pilot's cabin to make sure they'd be up in no time.

'No' Simmons was standing next to Fitz when she explained to Skye, who had already stood up and was on her way to the cargo area of the Bus with the other two agents at her side.

'We are tracking their cellphones… and car. They just started moving back again' Fitz finished as the three of them stood in between the Lab and the cargo hold, staring at each other without knowing what to expect.

The first thing Skye noticed upon their arrival, was that A) Ward had a new scar covered by a bit of dry blood by his throat, B) Coulson was smiling, full grin; C) Agents Barton and Romanoff were… people.

At second glance, she added 'scary looking' at the description of point C of her mental list. There was an air surrounding both Agents that kept her from talking, much like her first impression of Melinda May. She hadn't been wrong about her, either.

Skye, Fitz and Simmons had waited in the cargo area for about 5 minutes when Fitz suggested they'd all look more normal waiting inside, casually reading or having a drink. Both women had agreed.

FitzSimmons had gone back to the lab, started playing with something Skye understood nothing about and soon enough they were so into their work, they had actually succeeded the casual look. Skye herself had stopped by her bunk to retrieve her laptop and started working on the little intel they had on the mission again, just to kill time.

She was actually focused on the screen in front of her, typing away when she heard Coulson's voice.

'Really? Stark? Tony Stark?' she heard the team leader say.

'Yeah, he actually checks in every couple of days, makes sure we're still alive' an unknown male voice answered.

'He's gonna trace us wherever we're going; he's not an idiot. What should we say when he asks?'. It was a female voiced who asked.

Right then four people appeared at the lounge's door in front of Skye. She looked up and Coulson introduced them.

'Skye' he said, still smiling. 'Meet Agents Barton and Romanoff'. She shook hands with SHIELD's living legends.

'Hi' she said shyly to both of them, suppressing a fangirl smile. She was going to be all business around them. She was an Agent now.

Phil resumed his conversation with Natasha and Clint. 'Nothing. He's not a level 7, he can't know'.

Natasha gave Coulson a death glare that intimidated Skye quite a lot. She swallowed hard and looked at Coulson. 'It's not…' Coulson sighed. May had been right, it wasn't all forgiven apparently. Clint Barton was grinning next to an angry Natasha Romanoff, so there was something Skye didn't quite understand.

'Come on, Nat, cut him some slack.' Clint intervened on his handler's favor. She stared at Coulson in the eyes and after a few seconds, Phil spoke.

'I know it's not fair. But he's an Avenger. He should be kept from this for his own safety, at least trust me on that.' Coulson smiled and Natasha nodded.

Ward sat next to Skye while she was watching the whole scene and once it was over she turned to him. When she noticed the dry blood on his neck, she aimed his head up with her thumb for a better angle and asked, 'what happened to you?'

Ward gave a quick look at a now smirking Natasha and both Skye and Clint frowned, looking clearly puzzled. Coulson was staring intently at his shoes, clearly not going to intervene.

It was Natasha who spoke in the end, her eyes still locked with Ward's, daring him to protest. 'He shouldn't have followed me'.

After a few seconds of awkward silence, Phil Coulson went straight to business. 'Alright, Skye, tell us what we've got. I wanna get this over with.' She nodded and Coulson, looked around, frowning. 'Where's FitzSimmons?'

'Down at the lab.' Skye said, opening several folders and documents on her laptop.

'I'll go get them' Ward said as he stormed off to find the pair.

When the three of them returned, Simmons had the biggest smile plastered on her face. She didn't acknowledge anyone's existence in the briefing room other than Barton and Romanoff's. Behind her, Fitz was just as mesmerized.

When the scientists stood face to face with the spies, Simmons eyes went straight to Clint's arms. 'Oh my…' she whispered.

Clint chuckled. 'Hi. Clint Barton.' He offered his hand which she gladly shook.

'Jemma Simmons' she shook both Clint and Natasha's hand in greeting. She pointed Fitz, who was now shaking the pair hands as well. 'This is…'

'Leo Fitz' Natasha spoke before Jemma could. They all stared at her in awe. 'Big fan of your weapons'

'I… oh, thanks.' Fitz said. 'How… how are your gauntlets working? How much voltage do they use?'

'Hey I could always use some extra explosive arrows…' Clint interrupted

'Simmons and I have been working on this new prototype…'

Phil cleared his throat to interrupt before Simmons could follow. 'You can chat about weaponry improvements later. Let's get to our mission first.'

Skye hooked her computer to the big plasma on the wall and started briefing the team. 'Alright, this is what we know so far…'

'That's it?' Clint blinked repeatedly. 'Are you kidding me, Phil? This is even less than we had for Budapest, and we all know how that turned up' he chuckled.

'I know. Everything's a dead end from here. We need someone on the inside.'

'What about the owner, Zadornov? Got anything on him?' Natasha asked Skye while she put all the info she gathered on him on the plasma.

'Probably not his real name; he's nowhere to be seen. Not on any social networks, not on any newspaper articles or any police reports. The only actual trail of him is the club's lease' Skye highlighted the club's name on the scanned document: "красный оргазм". Natasha chuckled and Skye looked at her, confused.

'It means Red Orgasm. Not real subtle. Where is it located?' Natasha answered and asked.

'Ehmmm… here.' She used a hacked satellite to show her.

'Do I even wanna know?' Coulson whispered to himself.

Skye smiled as she put the guy's picture up. 'All I can say is what? 180 pounds, 6 feet tall, mid- thirties?'

'I'd say 170 pounds and… 1,80 meters?' Simmons corrected her.

'That's 5' 9.' Fitz added. 'Yeah, that's about right.'

Natasha chuckled. 'That's no Alexei Zadornov.' They all looked at her. She pointed at Skye's laptop and asked her, 'may I?' Skye nodded.

Natasha simply googled a man's name and put the results for everyone to see.

'Meet Pyotr Novikov.' The man in the blurry picture smiled at them in a sharp suit and blue tie. Behind him, a tall skyscraper that read "Novikov &amp; Company: Stockbroker" in the entrance. Natasha read from his biography outloud. '37 year old Pyotr started his company at the young age of 24 with older brother Ivan and is ranked number 4 in Moscow's stockbrokers, rapidly ascending.' She looked at them and explained. 'The brother's a lawyer. They're really big in Moscow right now.'

'Ever crossed paths with the guy?' Clint asked Natasha, arms crossed.

'No, but I've heard of him.' She kept reading to herself. 'According to this, he's a pillar of the community…'

'So what's a guy like that doing with a owning a prostitution ring responsible for dealing unknown drugs that have a lethal effect? Melinda May asked.

Nobody answered.

'So are we going in?' Skye asked.

Phil Coulson stood in the middle of the room, looking seriously from Skye to Ward, to May to Simmons to Fitz to Clint and to Natasha…

'Well, they're hiring…' Natasha smiled at Coulson, who smiled back.

Coulson decided the course of action right there and then. Now they knew more. They could go in safer. Once they had some good intel, he'd plan what to do next.

'Skye, find everything you can on this Pyotr Novikov and his company. Work with Natasha. We'll need to know about the surroundings. I wanna hear everything. I wanna hear why he broke up with his girlfriend. I wanna know at what time he eats dinner. If he goes out of buys frozen dinners. I wanna know everything about this guy.'

'Got it' Skye nodded, as she typed, sitting next to Natasha Romanoff.

Finally, Coulson said 'Agent Ward … Turns out, you're going in after all…'


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Not my characters, no matter how much I beg.**

**A/N: Chapter 3. This is getting in shape, it's finally going somewhere. Don't give up just yet, there's more to come. Reviews are welcomed.**

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Agent Grant Ward looked amazing in a sharp black suit, there was no denying it. As he awkwardly rearranged his tie, Leo Fitz handed him a tiny earpiece and a reassuring smile.

'Ever been undercover before? You look nervous.' Clint Barton asked, partly to Ward and partly to Coulson standing a few feet from them.

'Yes. I'm not a rookie, you know.' An annoyed Ward answered. He may not be a living legend like Hawkeye but he was a damn good agent, thank you very much.

'Just asking, man.' Clint stated, raising both hands defensively.

Phil Coulson raised his eyebrows and nodded at them to join FitzSimmons, Natasha, Skye and himself in the dining area they'd used as a briefing room two days before.

Natasha handed Ward a folder. 'This is your contact.' He opened the file and grabbed the guy's picture. Mid 50s, grey hair, ugly scars all over his face. 'Name's Mike.' The redheaded added and Ward lifted an eyebrow in response. 'He's the head of Novikov's private security. He keeps to himself and doesn't ask many questions. He won't need to, with your cover' She smiled and looked at Skye, who took the cue to fill him in.

'Right. You've been a bodyguard for some big shot corporate heads in Japan and America. No priors, just a couple of speeding tickets to make it look like you're an actual existing person… Who doesn't have one of those, am I right?' she looked around, half a smile on her face.

'I don't…' Simmons whispered to herself and Coulson suppressed a smile next to her.

'Okay. Ward, your cover is security. You'll play the bodyguard, meaning you'll have access to Novikov. But I need you to access his office and plant this.'

Skye handed him an innocent looking flashdrive.

'It's a virus. You plunge that son of a guy on his personal computer and we'll be able to access all his dirty little secrets wirelessly, so it only needs to be connected the one time.' Skye said.

Ward nodded and stashed it on a secret compartment in his backpack.

'Your mission is strictly gathering information. Don't take any risks.' Coulson continued. 'We'll track your phone at all times, so we'll know if you're anywhere near that club. Doubtful, but precautionary measures… Keep an eye out for any unusual movement, but do not engage.'

Ward nodded. 'Grant… there's no extraction for this. So be careful. Maintain your cover at all costs. We'll be close in the field, but you'll be all alone inside there.'

'I know, sir.' Ward answered and his eyes wandered off to a worried looking Skye.

Just on cue, Melinda May landed the Bus somewhere on the outsides of Moscow.

'Good luck.' The Director nodded in his direction.

Grant Ward nodded back as a general goodbye, giving Skye one last look before heading out.

xx

Phil Coulson was on the other end of the comm. Not Ward's, that one was strictly sending and not receiving a signal and Skye was all over that in the lounge on the bus, along with keeping track of Ward's GPS coordinates. She was handling 3 computers simultaneously, 2 of them connected to the big plasma. Computers made her feel comfortable, like she knew what she was doing, like she was in charge. And since waiting for news- or in this case, the lack thereof- until the flashdrive was in place was nerve wracking, Skye kept herself busy on their target's profile, habits, associates and life in general.

Meanwhile, both Fitz and Simmons were still unsuccessfully trying to unravel the mystery of the unknown lethal drug they were investigating. But they had hit a dead end; they had already ruled out everything they would have tested a sample against. But giving up wasn't something they were familiar with, so, much to Simmons disliking, they were theorizing on alien DNA from the little they did know about different alien sources.

They had managed to identify traces of the Super Soldier serum, Captain America's serum, which had been a big step. Knowing that opened the question about what these victims had been physically capable of before their deaths. On the other side, there was still a great deal about this lethal drug they didn't know about.

As theorizing went, they had sort of rule out any known Asgardian samples due to difference in components in general and other biological differences only they understood to a full extent. So far, that drug was an 084. A Super Soldier Serumed 084, which meant they had no idea what it was and how to fight it, stop it, or contain it. So Fitz and Simmons kept looking for another answer. A more-specific, less-scary type of answer.

xx

Melinda May was pacing next to the big monitor in front of Skye, following Ward's GPS signal on a digital map while tracing other places of interest with strategic value for this mission with a digital pen, just as two extra blinking dots appeared on the map.

'We're in position.' Clint Barton barked from the other end of Coulson's comm. It was the first sentence one of the three people connected through that channel had said since Clint and Natasha had walked out to take place as Ward's backup on his first day undercover.

'They still haven't moved.' Coulson said back for the sake of saying something. They knew, because Skye had uploaded the same map May and herself were contemplating with Ward's location to their phones.

They weren't exactly expecting a show of any kind. No news was actually better. It meant his cover hadn't been blown. But no news meant Natasha and Clint would be silently and slithery backing Ward from a distance for a few days, until, primary, the flashdrive was in place.

They had been at stakeouts before, lots of times. The two of them. The three of them, actually, because most of their times Coulson was at their ear. They were a team. Not just Clint and Natasha. _COULSON_, Clint and Natasha. And how it usually worked; these little times they had on a stake outs, watching a target or backing up a colleague in no imminent danger, they'd usually joke around. Stupid joke from Clint, sassy comment from Natasha, smart comeback from Coulson. It was as much a routine as everything. Everyone else at SHIELD avoided their channels just because of this. They'd never shut up unless they were running for their lives. Sometimes not even then. Except today. Today, they were all radio silent.

Skye was too into her own private mission to notice Phil's face when he sat down on the table, a few seats from her, hands held together and eyes closed. May sat next to him.

'What did you expect, Phil, hugs and kisses? They've been through a lot.' She offered, knowing exactly what was going through her friend's mind.

He gave her a sad smirk in response and nodded. Not a conversation he wanted to have with them in his ear, but one he needed nonetheless. May understood that just as well.

'You have to understand. Three days ago, you were dead and still buried in a D.C cemetery where they visited you every month.' She said, quietly enough only for him to hear. 'Now you turned up alive after all this time, they're bound to be hurt... and confused.'

He reflected for a few moments, staring at his own hands in his lap. 'Yeah, I guess I didn't even think about that.' He said, at last. 'Kind of selfish of me isn't it?'

He knew both Clint and Natasha were listening to it, but neither made a comment about it.

In front of a beautiful skyscraper in the cold of Moscow, Clint Barton cleared his throat. 'He's coming out.' He looked at Natasha next to him, who checked her watch. 'His shift's over.' She said.

xx

At midnight, Clint and Natasha were in their safe house in the building across the one Ward's undercover address was, having eyes on him 24/7. They were out of their tactical uniforms and into civilians clothing. No earpiece either, just themselves, her guns and knives and his bow and arrows.

Natasha was sitting by the widow, checking on Ward from there. Clint appeared with two glasses of wine and gave one to her. She smiled a tiny thank you gesture. Clint sat down next to her and took the binoculars in hand. He looked through them at Ward's apartment, and then at the street.

'Still punching that bag?' Natasha asked.

'Yeap. Kid doesn't get tired. What's it been like, 3 hours?' Clint left the binoculars on the floor, next to where he was sitting and took a sip from his glass.

'Two and a half.' She checked her watch. 'If he stops within the next 10 minutes, then he's a really good agent.'

Clint looked at her and raised an eyebrow. 'And if he doesn't?'

'Then he's just lucky.' She smiled through her glass.

'I'll take that bet. My 20's on lucky bastard.' He pulled out his wallet, took a 20 dollar bill and set it on the floor between them. Natasha did the same.

They both stared in silence at Ward's window. A minute passed before Grant Ward stopped suddenly, stayed still for a whole minute, went to the window to check the empty street and went into the direction of his bathroom.

'Damn it.' Clint said as Natasha collected her prize, laughing. 'We should call him with an update, y'know' Clint said, half lying on the floor, turning his body to her direction.

Natasha's demeanor changed. Clint noticed it and took the burner phone from her hands before she could dial. 'Talk to me' he simply said.

'I'm fine, Clint. I just… why aren't you bothered?'

He gave her a sad snort and half a smile. 'Who said I'm not?' He looked at her tenderly. 'Know what the first thing I thought when I saw him…? After the initial shock, I mean.'

She shook her head no.

'22.' He said and she frowned in confusion. 'Twenty two is the number of agents I got killed on that helicarrier. Coulson was number 23.' He smiled at her again, but his eyes were full of guilt and sadness.

'Clint… it wasn't your-'

'Fault, yeah… But it was, Tasha. I may have not pulled the trigger or shot an arrow through all of them, but their deaths are on me, so…'

She looked at him. If it had been her, she'd no idea how to come back from that. She _had_ been him, been that, a lifetime ago and if she were ever forced to go back to being that, making her feel responsible for the deaths of so many colleagues and friends…

Natasha admired Clint for so many things, but right now she admired him for his courage and willing to put it all behind him and get out of bed every morning, because she wasn't sure she'd be strong enough to do the same.

Instead of trying to put all of those mixed thoughts into words, she kissed him. She kissed him with both passion and tenderness, fiercely and kindly until they both had to pull back to desperately grasp for air.

'I love you' she whispered, pressing her forehead against his.

He grinned, this time meaning it. 'I love you too.' He answered and kissed her again.

xx

At 12.32 am, while they were still naked on top of each other and panting, the phone rang. Natasha laughed and gave herself a second to compose before she sat on the bed, covered by a sheet and picked up. Next to her, a naked Clint Barton sat down as well and turned a lamp on.

'Romanoff' she answered, with a somewhat decent tone.

'Any updates?' Director Phil Coulson asked.

'Your guy's really good. He was followed from the office by a big goon.' Natasha told him

'What happened?' Skye's voice asked. They were clearly on speaker.

'Nothing. He camped outside, assessing for about two hours. Then he took off. Ward noticed it right away and played it cool until he left. His cover is intact but I'd be surprised if they didn't bug his apartment tomorrow while he's at work.' She briefed them, short and simple.

'Good. That's good. Tell Clint to head to Novikov's office tomorrow and Natasha, you stay there. I want a full report on who comes and goes from his safehouse and plants what in where, understood?' Coulson ordered.

'Yes, sir' she responded nonchalantly, 'anything else?'

'One more thing…You were supposed to check in again at midnight, what happened?' his tone was sharp and serious, almost worried.

'Sorry, got caught up. Won't happen again.' And she hung up.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Not my characters.**

**A/N: Well, I'm not giving up on this one. Stick with me, there's more to come.**

* * *

Agent Grant Ward was getting tired of standing up looking all too serious all the time. Pyotr Novikov was a workaholic. He had four bodyguards at all times. Two of them were their personal security, the ones he trusted the most. Those guys started working everyday at 5 in the morning, picking Novikov up from his own house downtown at 6.25 exactly, to be entering the office at 6.55 and working all alone, without being bothered until 7.30, when his other two bodyguards- Ward included- came in, and then, the rest of the employees between 7.45 and 9.30.

The guy functioned like clockwork. That much Ward figured out the very first day. On the second, well, he needed to learn Novikov's routine if he wanted to plant the flashdrive and maintain his cover at the same time.

Ward had to clock the beginning of his shift at 7.30 and stand outside of Novikov's door until the man got out for lunch at exactly 12.45, when he greeted him and the other bodyguard, not before locking his door and with the only key of the office. Ward would then have his own lunch time till 13.15, when he was once more commanded to stay guard outside the empty office door, awaiting the return of Mr. Novikov at 13.30 with one of his personal security guards. The other remained inside the entire time.

Once that window passed, Novikov was inside his office with one guard at all times. Both personal guards took shifts to smoke, eat and other personal needs, but the office was never alone until the day was done and the building closed for business at 20.00 by Novikov himself, greeting the night guards (another 4 guys) on his way out. He then would get into a black car with his two goons, who drove him back to his house, only to start the whole routine once again in the morning.

Ward and his door guarding buddy ended their shifts at 19.45; which meant that getting to that computer was a little more complicated than it sounded. He made an approximate calculation of how long it'd take him to get the job done. 'No more than a week' his head started planning as Pyotr Novikov closed his office door, followed by the guard named Butch.

'Gentlemen' He greeted Ward and Anton, the door guard stationed next to him.

Once he was out of sight, Anton turned around, nodding at Ward. 'Going out for lunch or brought something?' he smiled showing Ward his own bowl of food.

'Going across the street' He answered.

There was an awkward silence and Anton left.

Grant stayed there for a few minutes, observing the empty hallway, the office he knew was guarded on the inside and the air vent big enough to fit a man next to the men's bathroom door a few feet from his side of the door. He smiled to himself and went to the diner across the building for lunch.

xx

It was exactly one o'clock on Friday, Ward's fifth day of working undercover as a security guard, when Natasha saw movement in the street. Unusual movement, that is. A black SVU parked on the other side of the street, just on the entrance of Ward's building. Two big fat guys dressed in black got out, carrying identical metallic briefcases. Pressed to the window, she got the binoculars for a better look and grabbed the phone from her back pocket.

The big guys were entering the building when she dialed Coulson's number and put it on speaker. With both hand on the binoculars she was using, she quickly lost them as they rode the elevator. She guided her eyesight to Ward's 10th floor apartment and waited.

'Natasha.' Coulson greeted. 'What's going on?'

'They're in. Two guys. Tall, about 6' 2' each, fat, both white and in their mid- 40s. They're carrying basic gear, for what it looks like. Metallic briefcase.'

'Where are they now?' Coulson asked on the phone.

'Elevator.'

'Skye, try to hack any security cameras on the building and across the street to get a better look.' Natasha heard Coulson say.

'Got it.' The newest Agent answered.

'There's a black SVU parked across the street from me, in front of the building. Can't make the plate from here.' She added.

'I'm in.' Skye almost screamed. 'Got the license. Lemme check.'

Natasha heard a beep, most likely from Skye's computer.

'SVU is registered to… oh, what do you know? Novikov &amp; Company: Stockbroker. Not so careful after all, are we?' Skye said.

Natasha smirked just as Novikov's men got out of the elevator and broke into Ward's safehouse.

'Skye, they're inside Ward's apartment' she let the young hacker know.

'Okay. Only got surveillance from the building's entrance anyway.' Skye answered as she kept typing into her laptop. 'Let me know when they move, I'm hacking into a satellite that may let us follow them.'

Coulson smiled. He felt so proud right now. Skye was a greater asset than he had initially thought, and Natasha was somewhat back on his team and funny enough, both women seemed to be working naturally well together.

'They're sweeping for bugs. Nothing yet.' The redheaded spy updated them. 'Any word from Clint?'

'Not yet.' Coulson answered. She asked more out of curiosity and habit than worrisome. She wasn't expecting any actual news.

'They're setting some sort of device. Can't tell if it's a small camera, a thermal, or a microphone.' Natasha concluded. 'Top shelf in the corner of the living room. They're going to the bedroom now. Don't have eyes there. '

'We should assume it's the same tech.' May said. Coulson nodded at her and stared back to the phone on the middle of the table.

'They're starting to move.' Natasha's voice said.

Skye started typing again. Three street view images of an almost empty street from three different points of view popped in her laptop screen. 'Got you' she spoke to her screen.

'Okay, they're out. They're all yours.' Natasha said and hung up.

As Skye sat in front of her computer, Coulson and May stood behind her, looking at the three images of the van in question. The vehicle started moving and Skye followed one camera she needed, putting it up on the big plasma, marking the license plate as the constant combo of pixels she needed from that camera. She split the screen to simultaneously follow their path via satellite as she went back to the street cameras to follow the car.

Skye's phone started ringing, making her a bit jumpy. She was following the SVU's trail on the satellite as she checked the caller's I.D. She freaked out; he wouldn't call unless it was an emergency.

xx

Grant wanted to raise no suspicion. He was going to wait until lunch, just before for his boss left with one bodyguard, he'd excuse himself o the bathroom so Anton wouldn't wait for him and he'd have about 10 minutes to safely plant the virus. There was the question on the remaining bodyguard. He couldn't just enter the office and use the computer and to subdue the guard by force would mean to blow his cover. He had decided to take a bit longer to think it through and take it up to Coulson, and at least request a night-night gun to sleep the guard.

But that day things went differently. One of the guards left at 12.15 with an unknown middle age man that had been inside the office in a private meeting. When Pyotr left to go to lunch half an hour later, he was escorted by the remaining guard. The office was alone. It was now or never. Ward waited for Anton to leave and when the hallway was clear, he broke into the office.

He tried to touch as little as possible and headed straight for the desk computer. He connected the flash drive and for the first time in the last week, he called Skye.

'Ward?' she asked when she saw his name on her phone. 'where are you?'

'I'm in his office, I just connected the flash drive you gave me.'

'What? They just bugged your safehouse. They're returning as we speak.' Skye freaked out.

Her high-pitched tone caught Coulson's attention. He went to meet her in the lounge. She saw him coming and put Ward on speaker.

'Ward's in.' She stared at Coulson and then stared at her computer. 'Come on, come on, come on!' she yelled at the appliance.

'Grant, you've got 20 minutes, tops.' Coulson warned.

'Not gonna make it go any faster, Coulson. 50% and uploading.' He answered calmly, but he was starting to sweat. He checked his watch; 1:01. He kept staring at the door and back at the screen. A few more silent minutes passed and the computer beeped. 'Done.' He said and relaxed. He was about to hang up when Skye yelled

'Wait!'

'What?' both Coulson and Ward asked, impaciently.

The hacker hesitated. She was running an algorithm, going through all the data. 'This can't be it, I'm not seeing anything remotely out of the ordinary.' She looked at Coulson. 'There's nothing even close to password protected.'

Skye knew her systems, so Coulson trusted her gut on this one. She nodded and looked at her phone. 'Ward, is there any other computer there, a laptop maybe?'

He started looking everywhere. Desk, cabinet, drawers. There was one that was locked, and he forced it open. 'Found one.' He opened the lid and connected the drive. The virus started uploading and he checked his watch again; 1: 18. He was praying the damn thing to go faster.

'How much longer?' An impatient and just as anxious Skye asked from the other end what felt like an eternity later.

'83%' He checked his watch again. 1:22. His boss would be back in eight minutes, and the security guard who bugged the safehouse would be here before that.

It beeped. He took out the flash drive, put the computer back where he found it and hang up the phone. He was reaching for the door handle when he heard noise outside. Damn it. He acted quickly.

xx

When Pyotr Novikov entered his office back from his lunch break at half past one, like every single day, he sensed something was off. He looked around trying to see if anything had been disturbed. He checked his desk and everything was where he had left it. He opened his locked drawer; his secret was still there. He let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding and sat on his chair. He turned to gaze out the window and stared at his plant, an ugly fern his brother had given him a year ago when he first opened his club. Nobody knew about that. He wanted it that way. He'd silence whoever he needed to silence to keep that secret. He noticed some dirt on his carpet, where the plant was, next to the air vent and all his fears returned.

He nodded at Butch, the bodyguard that was with him in the office; his right hand. Butch would do anything he asked, including some of questionable morale he'd done in the last few months regarding Red Orgasm.

Butch opened the door and Novikov stood at his door. He looked at Anton, the young Russian muscle that had started working for him and then at Ward, the mysterious American he didn't quite trust. 'Where have you been?' Ward hadn't been in his post when he returned just a minute ago.

'Bathroom, sir.' He answered with a shy smile. Novikov nodded.

'Where's Mike?'

'Here.' The tattooed middle aged man was walking towards them. 'Traffic, boss.'

Novikov gave one last look at Ward and entered his office, sitting back on his chair. 'Found anything?' Mike got in and closed the door behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: Not my characters.**

**A/N: Sorry, it's been a while, I know. This chapter is a bit more technical, trying to understand and explain what is going on, which no one is quite sure of, and this is the chapter where everyone is sorry about something.**

* * *

'Oo-freaking-woa' Skye muttered as several words were highlighted on documents and lists and records were being checked by her algorithm.

'What is it?' Coulson asked as May came rushing from the pilot cabin.

'What did you find?' May inquired. Behind her, Romanoff and Barton rushed through, catching up with the rest of the team circling Skye.

10 pictures appeared on the plasma screen and Skye's laptop, making her sick to her stomach. All of them girls, wearing almost nothing, all in sexual poses and all of them looking like they'd been tortured and crying.

'Coulson we gotta get them out.' Skye was angry. This was the world they lived in. They handled man like Pyotr Novikov to stop things like this from happening. She wanted to break every single one of his bones and teeth.

'Oh. My. God.' Simmons walked into the lounge and covered her mouth with both her hand, horrified.

Phil Coulson couldn't believe what he was seeing. He had been expecting a call from Fitz or Simmons, actually, telling him they'd found where the drug had come from or something like that. His stomach was not ready for those pictures. He suddenly felt like throwing up. His eyes went from the images on the screen to Jemma and Skye, both in the age range of those girls. Then she looked at Natasha and it hit him; she must have been around that age –or younger- when she was… made, unmade, brainwashed, reprogrammed; choose your verb but let's call it for what it was: torture. He knew it but sometimes forgot it.

He remembered his own torture and how more painful learning the truth from Fury had been and a lot of mixed emotions that he couldn't handle in front of everyone came rushing to the surface. He imagined Clint Barton being turned into something of a vessel by Loki and waking up to find that he'd-

'I need a moment' he almost whispered. Coulson almost run to his office and shut the door behind him. He sat on his desk chair massaging his scalp with both his hands. His eyes were closed when he heard a knock.

'I'll be a minute, May' He looked up to find Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff barging in and sitting on his brown leather couch without saying a word. Natasha leaned her head into Clint's shoulder and he put and arm around her, which made Coulson smile a little.

He got up and served three glasses of his best scotch. He gave one to each and he took a sip. He sat next to them, glass still in hand and said 'I'm sorry' while looking straight at the wall. He looked at them. 'It was selfish of me asking you to come back, pretend like nothing happened…' he took another sip and looked at Natasha. 'I'm sorry. ' He shook his head. 'You know, sometimes I forget how young you were when Clint brought you in…' Natasha half smiled. 'How young you must have been… I'm sorry for what was done to you, Natasha. And you…' He looked at Clint. 'Clint, I wish I could change something. I wish you hadn't had to live with that burden and I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry for what you went through and I'm sorry' he looked at both of them with fatherly love, 'that I wasn't there to help pick up the pieces'.

For the first time in a long time, the three of them hugged. 'We're sorry too, Phil' one of them said. 'You've been through hell and back, too' the other added.

'And I'm sorry to interrupt' Melinda May said, standing by the door frame. She nodded in the direction of the lounge. 'We're all wondering if you're okay Phil' she sounded concerned.

He smiled at her. 'Yeah.' He stood up. 'I just needed a minute.' He looked at Clint and Natasha, who stood up behind him and nodded. 'Let's get to work' he walked to meet his agents, followed by the trio.

xx

He cleared his throat and Skye, Jemma and Leo looked up at him. The three other agents came behind him and joined them. 'I'm sorry.' Coulson was big on apologies today. 'Some cases are harder than others. I just needed to clear my head.'

The younger three nodded and understood what he meant. It wasn't going to be easy on anyone. So they got right to it. Fifteen minutes later, they were all sitting around the table gathering all the intel they could. Coulson walked them through it out loud.

'10 girls. No names or any ID yet; Skye's still working on that. We found a client list; all 13 victims are in there' that was the basic information.

'The list goes on, though; there must be at least 30 names' Skye added, putting the list on the monitor for everyone to see. Victims information had been highlighted. 'Trying to match all the pervs through the DMV data base'

Coulson continued. 'We've got names and addresses of some of the potential victims… Clients; they're still victims, we can't forget that. There are also some paper trails, cash withdraws and payments that ties them directly to the club.'

He nodded at Skye and she put the documents up as he spoke. 'But here's the thing. There's nothing on the drug. Not a supplier name, not a shipment container, nothing. And we still can't tell what it is.' He took his head with both hands, frustrated.

'Well, we have to consider non-traditional sources for this sort of thing too.' Clint Barton suggested. 'If the source is alien, the container might as well be…It may not come in a syringe or powder… Maybe it's not your usual dealer.' he reasoned.

They all stared at him, but Natasha was the one who picked up his line of thought. 'It might not be a substance at all.' They all stared at her, now. She looked at Simmons. 'Can you guess the specific way of consumption by whatever traces you have?'

'No' Jemma answered. 'But the traces showed up in their blood test.' She peaked at their last report that Fitz was holding open in front of them. 'As far as the autopsies went, nothing out of the ordinary was found on their stomach content or lungs'

'So they didn't eat it or breathed it in' Skye concluded.

Jemma nodded. 'Wait. Here…' Fitz scattered through the pages. 'Hair analysis dictated that they'd been consuming for at least a month before their death. They all got the same result.'

'So what does that leave?' Coulson asked. 'Blood? Injection?'

'We couldn't find any marks or scaring on the bodies, sir. Not even evidence of hypodermic needles.' Simmons explained. 'It was in found in their blood stream, but we have no idea how it was administrated.'

Natasha and May looked over the report. 'The drug. Was it organic or had any modified components, like you'd find in a powder drug that's been processed? The red headed spy asked.

'Has no one read our report?' Fitz frowned

'No one understood the report, I think…' Skye murmured and Clint snorted at her comment. She suppressed a smile.

'Definitely organic' Jemma answered.

'What are you thinking?' May asked Natasha tilting her head a bit to the side.

'I'm not sure yet' she answered 'Simmons, the compound itself, could you isolate every single element?'

'Agent Romanoff, you're simplifying a much more complicated process-'

'Just answer the question' May almost begged. '…In English'

'No.' she let out a breath. 'It really is complicated, though. Most of these molecules form a predictable chemical bond, a known compound. In the human body there are certain compounds that I expected to find, which is why I cannot tell with a certain degree of accuracy if those same molecules are also part of a larger compound formed by the unknown drug' She rattled rapidly and they all blinked repeatedly at her.

Fitz realized she had confused them even more giving their collective frown. 'What Simmons means is we don't know how much of the human element is part of the compound. What we did isolate was the unknown molecule and it's like nothing we've ever seen before' he passed a sheet with a chemical chain and containing several interrogations signs in the middle.

'Okay, I'm lost' Skye stated, throwing her hands up in the air.

'Sir, I think it'd be easier if we could see it on the monitor and we explained our findings' Simmons pleaded to Coulson who didn't even have words for that, he just nodded and Skye put the specific graphics Fitz asked her on the screen.

'This is basically what the compound looks like… The drug in itself, that's the unknown molecule, we don't really know what it resembles. It could either be this single molecule or the other known human atoms could play a larger part in the final compound. The combination of which, is fatal.'

They all admired at the graphic in silence. 'And what about Cap's serum? Which one's that?' Natasha asked, the only of the bunch who followed her rant other than Fitz.

'That's that bit here.' She pointed with a laser. 'But as you see, it's mixed in this man's body making it a part of a bigger compound, similar to what happened to the drug.'

'And since it's an unknown atom and we don't know how it reacts, we don't know what other mix of elements it takes to go… boom' Fitz concluded and Natasha nodded.

'So the element is natural?' she asked

Fitz and Simmons looked at each other; then back at the spy. 'Neither natural nor processed, agent Romanoff.' Simmons said. 'It's alien' Fitz finished her sentence.

xx

At 3 in the morning, after having twisted restlessly in bed for over an hour, Coulson gave up on sleep, sighed and got out of bed. He put his slippers and robe on, cozy little birthday gift, and went to the kitchen area to make some tea.

The light was off but there was a white- blueish glimmer coming from there. And a typing noise. He shook his head disapprovingly when he saw Skye curled uncomfortable in a chair, dark bags under her brown eyes, typing concentrated enough not to notice him sneak up.

'What are you still doing up?' He asked and she jumped, clearly startled. He turned the light on and she squinted her eyes, adjusting to the new acquired brightness.

'Almost done. I'm down to the last firewall.' She looked at him for the first time since he entered the room. 'Nice robe' she muttered, a mocking smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She rubbed both eyes with one hand and stretched her entire body, yawning, which made Coulson yawn back. She checked her phone without really looking at it. 'What time is it? She asked Coulson.

'A little bit past three' he answered and she nodded, her concentration back to the screen in which she typed the last few ones and zeroes. A new program started running by itself a minute later and that was her cue to stand from her seat, stretching her limbs again and settling herself next to Coulson by the counter. She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She was dozing off when the kettle whistled its boiling state. She stood straight as he grabbed two tea bags from the box and prepared two mugs with the hot beverage.

'Better not be from Simmons secret's stash. She'll kill you.' Skye raised an eyebrow and Coulson snorted. Cups in hand, they sat face to face at the far end of the table.

The first few sips are silent. Then the silence was interrupted by her concern. 'How are you?'

Coulson smiled to his cup of tea. 'I'm fine. How are _you_, Skye?'

She made a face, raising an eyebrow. 'I'm serious. I'm worried about you.'

Coulson nodded, understanding where this was coming from. 'Don't be. Really, I'm fine. And I'm sorry about earlier' he smiled at her. 'I had a lot of feelings bottled up, I guess. They came out at the wrong time… ' he started at nothing for a moment, then returned his attention back at her. 'What about you? What's keeping you up?'

She stared absently at her tea. 'Don't know' she lied. She looked at him and saw Coulson, her boss, her friend, her team leader; 100% A.C, so she let it out with a sigh. 'That could've been me...' she gave herself a moment and stared back at the cup in her hands. 'They look my age, right? Who knows how long they've been…- I was all alone, the kind of person no one would miss and I-'

'We would miss you' Phil Coulson's smile was heartwarming and true and she smiled at that, knowing he meant it; and feeling, for the first time in her life, a part of a family.

Her lips formed a thin line and her face turned pale abruptly. 'No one would miss me' she repeated in almost a whisper. She got hold of her laptop quickly and started typing excitedly. Coulson forgot his tea and stood beside her, trying but being unable to follow her work.

'Walk me through it' he said when nothing in her screen made sense to him.

'No names.' She stated. 'All we've got are pictures.' A new program started to run, a facial recognition program, and she turned to look at him. 'I'm crosschecking against Missing Persons reports. Coulson, what if they were kidnapped or something? People no one would miss, girls no one would notice if they didn't come back' she explained. Suddenly her demeanor changed, 'those were not the faces of people who were there on her own free will'

Coulson nodded at her and patted her back. Good. They were following breadcrumbs but at least they had something viable now. They just had to wait and see.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry it took me so long to upload this. Chapter 7 in the works. Enjoy!**

* * *

By 7 am the rest of the team was in the kitchen area drinking several cups of coffee and eating different sort of things, most of them in silence. Fitz was telling Jemma about the Welsh cake he had dreamt about and was now craving.

Skye hadn't slept at all. After her initial idea, she had been overly excited for results to actually sleep and couldn't wait. So she sat there. After a while and no beeping, Coulson had fallen asleep on the couch where he was now sitting next to May, drinking a cup of coffee silently.

Natasha was standing up. She also had a coffee in her hand, which she sipped slowly and halfway through her mug she started stretching her muscles and head. Done, she was awake. Barton, on the other hand, looked like the funniest coffee addicted zombie Skye had ever seen. He was already finishing his third cup of coffee, -black, two sugars- when he took the pot to refill.

'Oh my god!' Skye snapped. After all, she was the sleep deprived one. She looked at Clint and then at Natasha next to him and pointed accusingly with her finger. 'Is he for real?'

Natasha nodded into the last bit of her coffee. Yeap, that was Clint in the morning all right. At least he was drinking from a mug and had pants on. She smirked to herself.

'Dude, leave some for the rest of us' Okay, so Skye wasn't the friendliest person when she didn't sleep. Clint didn't reply, he refilled Skye's mug first and then his own, holding a thumb up in apology, for which she was secretly grateful and sipped what would make her fifth coffee of the day.

'Okay.' Coulson got up from the couch and walked towards Skye. Thankfully he had had the good sense of changing into a suit when the first of the team to wake up, May, walked into the lounge area and he woke up. She had laughed. 'What did you find?' he nodded towards Skye's laptop.

'Riiiiiiiiiiiiiight' she started. 'Well, so far out of the 10 girl we only identified two.' Her eyes were opened wide. '…which is like eight less than I'd like, but it's still something' She put their police files and driver's licenses on the monitor.

The first one was a beautiful blue eyed brunette; Татьяна Соколов. 'Tatyana Sokolova' Natasha translated. '23 years old. 5'5'. 136 pounds. Lives in Pushkino.' She looked at the rest of the team 'That's where the club is located.' She approached Skye. 'Let me read the report' Skye nodded and let her sit to read the document in its original Russian.

A minute later Natasha looked up and crossed her arms over the table. 'Went missing 5 months ago. Student in Moscow, was reported by her grandma, only living next of kin but the police didn't put much effort into it because she has a history of running away from home, once when she was 12 and then again at 17.'

Natasha went to the other document. 'Alina Levkova' She put her DMV photo and matched her with one of the original pictures in Novikov's computer. 'Originally from Saint Petersburg, foster kid in several different places, all in the same city from birth until she turned 18 when she went off the grid. A friend reported her missing after not hearing from her for two months' She read 'That was six months ago. No one even looked into her case.' She made a disgusted face.

Coulson tried to push all his feelings aside. He needed to be 100% focused. 'Alright. Where do they intercept? What do they have in common? How does he target them?' he voiced the questions everyone was having.

'He has friends in all the right places. The guy's untouchable. I'm willing to bet he has someone inside the force or something.' Clint said.

Skye's jaw was clenched. That last girl… Yeah, that could have been her. But she had a family now. So she was gonna make sure all of these girls got out safely from there to find a family of their own.

'What sort of parameters did you use?' Natasha interrupted her thoughts. She blinked repeatedly. 'Nation wide' she answered.

Natasha nodded.

'Romanoff, are you still in touch with your old KGB contacts?' Melinda May asked. The spy nodded.

'What are you thinking?' Coulson inquired.

May's jaw was also clenched. 'He may have the right people in his pocket, but there's no way KGB is turning a blind eye, Phil; there are 13 bodies all overdose of who-knows-what and 10 kidnapped girls. Someone has to know something.'

'I'll make some calls' Natasha stated, pulling her phone from her back pocket.

xx

'Okay, while Skye searches for the girls' information, let's focus back on the victims' When they all frowned at him, Coulson added '…the clients. The dead bodies… those guys.'

Skye went to work on one of the other computers. 'Right here. I've got the names and addresses; mostly locals, a name or two from Moscow.' She scanned several documents with her eyes. 'Low level dirt-bags. A couple of assault arrests, one possession with intent…' she looked up and added before anyone asked 'cocaine' She went on. 'They are your average Joe. Low-level prostitution user average Joe, but nothing out of the ordinary. A few credit cards charges for drinks, and I mean lots of drinks, from the club itself making a few regulars, but I assume most of them used cash.' She concluded her analysis.

Clint crossed his arms and addressed Coulson. 'That's somewhat good news.' His handler frowned in confusion and he explained. 'Easy cover. I walk in, gather intel, set them free, walk out.'

'You're missing the alien and lethal drug, Barton. How are you gonna handle that? We don't even know what we're looking for.' May barged in.

He looked pensive for a minute. 'Well it's a nightclub. I'll take them' he said pointing at FitzSimmons.

'No.' Coulson and May said simultaneously. 'No one is going anywhere until we know what we're dealing with' Coulson finished the discussion with a look Clint had ever seen a couple of times before, so he didn't argue.

Natasha came back from her bunk a few seconds later, a few shades paler than she was. She asked Skye to use a computer and sat down with one. She started typing something and Skye peeked from where she was sitting. When green Russian characters started running and some sort of log in window popped, she stood behind Natasha.

'What are you- wow, okay, you're good.' Her eyes were widened in surprised.

Natasha smirked. She had some tricks up her sleeve. 'Not as good as you' and she added 'I'm borrowing a couple of KGB files'

'You're hacking into KGB?!' Skye stressed that last word.

Natasha shrugged. 'I used to work there.' Skye raised an eyebrow and before she could interrogate her further, Coulson stepped in.

'What did you find?'

'Turns out May was right.' They all looked up at the monitor as Natasha now handled the information going through the computer. 'KGB has been trying to keep quiet about this for about a year.' She shared crime scene photos and autopsy reports with the team. 'We actually know a lot more about whatever substance killed them that they do, which is saying something.' She said. 'Apparently they've been trying to nail Novikov for almost three years for a wide range of charges, including fraud and embezzlement. A year ago he opened his club under the name Alexei Zadornov. He's got deep pockets because that cover ID is nearly perfect.' She continued scanning the documents in her mother tongue. 'He was a person of interest in the disappearance of those two girls we found but was never convicted, they couldn't make the connection; he does know the right people in the right places, he swept it all under the rug. Everything they ever had on his was circumstantial.'

She let that information sink in. At least they were on the right track. 'About 6 months ago,-wow' she widened her eyes. 'his profits tripled.' She looked up from the screen. 'Alina and Tatyana were both local, they must've been the first girls. It worked, he got greedy, got smarter. Started taking foreigners.' She looked at Skye. 'Facial rec still running?'

'Yeah' Skye nodded.

'Go global.'

Natasha went back to the reports. 'Well they added kidnapping and prostitution to his list of charges but it's all still circumstantial. He made a good cover. '

'What about the drug? First body was two months ago, any change of activity during that time?' he asked.

'Hmmmm…' Natasha hummed as she read rapidly. 'Three months ago there was another spike in his profits.' She put the number on the plasma.

'Dude's scoring big, even for a prostitution ring.' Clint blurted out.

Natasha and Coulson both nodded. 'Skye.' Coulson called. 'Check the victims credit card records going back six months. I wanna know if their activity spiked as well.'

It took the young hacker less than two minutes to answer. 'Only four of the thirteen victims used a credit card regularly, but you're on to something. They started out normal; once or twice a week and three months ago they went to complete nightclub addicts; up to six times a week.' She felt a shiver down her spine. 'Three of the other victims also used their MasterCard on specific dates in the last two months.'

Before Clint could make a really bad joke, Skye's computer started beeping like crazy. 'Woooah' she whispered when she saw what it was about.

'You were right.' She said to Natasha. 'I've got seven hits globally.' They all stared at the faces of the newly found Missing Girls. All but one. 'They're all between 20 and 27. Young, pretty, and alone.'

'They travelled to Russia alone, escaping or on vacation; went to the wrong night club and never came home.' May reflected. They all kept quiet for a minute.

Skye's third computer beeped and they all turned their heads to stare at the machine. 'What's that? Fitz asked. They all stared at Ward's GPS coordinates.

xx

Grant Ward had not expected the knock that came at his door. It was barely 8 o'clock in the morning on Saturday and he knew he couldn't make contact with the team unless absolutely necessary because he was being watched. His cell phone was not tapped –that he knew of- but he didn't wanna risk looking suspicious and making calls near Novikov.

He put a shirt on and answered the door to find Butch, and almost immediately engaged in fighting mode.

'Take it easy, man.' Butch spoke in a friendly tone. 'The boss likes you; says you're clean. He wants to offer you an extra profit… off the books.'

Ward smirked and within five minute he was clean shaven and changed into dark jeans and a t-shirt. 'What's the job?' he asked as he got into the black SVU that drove Pyotr Novikov everywhere.

Butch jumped into the driver's seat and started the car. 'Pushkino. Nightclub security… It can get crazy.'

Grant Ward felt his cell phone in the pocket of his jeans instantly. His jaw clenched as he realized that going into the Red Orgasm alone and with barely any intel, was skating on thin ice.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Yes, I know it's been forever and I'm very sorry. I've been super busy with college and my new job and haven't had the time, so this is a short one. It should be showdown after this.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Butch parked the SVU in an open space in the intersection of Nadsonovskaya Street and 50 Let Komsomola Street, a few feet from the front door of the Red Orgasm nightclub.

The ride had been silent. Ward had been mentally preparing a game plan, although he was pretty much blank; he'd had to figure it out as he went along. However dangerous, he saw this as an opportunity, the biggest one yet: He was literally stepping into the wolf's lair, which meant it was his chance to take a real look at what was going on, investigate to the fullest while maintaining his cover. He was the team's proper eyes and ears. It wasn't just connecting a USB drive anymore. He was in and he needed to learn everything he could.

He had no idea whether Skye had been able to get any intel from Novikov's laptop, let alone anything useful and incriminating, which was pretty much going in blindly. He only hoped he'd be able to get some real evidence for the team, yet he couldn't communicate with them, which was a problem in its own. He knew they've be tracking his coordinates, but that probably meant they'd assume he was in danger and they'd come as backup, which would risk them all and would let them learn nothing new. He had to let them know where he was and that he was okay.

He came out of the car with an idea. 'Any idea how long this gonna take? I had plans.' He said to Butch, who shrugged. 'Right. I'll make a call.' He took out his phone and prayed to sound convincing on both ends. He dialed.

XX

They were all yelling different things at each other and moving frantically around the bus when Skye's phone rang. From where each one of them was, they turned to stare in the general direction of the sound.

Skye read the number on her screen and yelled at no one in particular 'It's him' and she picked up, while the rest of the team gathered around her.

'Ward' Skye said worriedly and put the phone on speaker.

'Hey, babe, I'm not sure I'm gonna make it in time for lunch.' He had to get to it right away so she would understand and not give anything away; he knew this conversation was being listened to.

Skye made a confused face and Coulson silently gestured her to go along.

'Oh… everything alright?' she fished.

'Yeah, nothing to worry about… Something came up at work. Don't know how long I'm gonna be here for.'

She looked at Coulson, who nodded. So, he was okay and he was at the nightclub; he'd make something out of it.

'Maybe you can call me once you're done and meet me for drinks… haven't seen you in a while' she tried.

'Yeah, I'd like that. Alright, I gotta go, but I'll call you later.' He hung up.

Skye looked at Coulson. 'Now what?'

'Now we wait for him to get out of there and call again to meet for drinks' he said with a smile on his face that was too forced for anyone to believe.

XX

Inside the club, Butch was whispering something to Novikov and another guy whose face looked familiar but Ward couldn't place.

'Grant Ward' the stranger called him. 'Ivan Novikov. Your boss' brother' he smiled and shook his hand. Ah, that's where he knew him from.

'Sir. Pleasure to meet you.' Ward played his part.

'Sit.' Pyotr Novikov pointed at a vintage red velvet sofa in a corner of a room. Ward did as ordered and immediately started assessing his surroundings, trying to form a map of the place in his head.

The club in itself was what he thought to be an old warehouse, based on the concrete walls, though they were now painted. The square room with the main dance floor was big enough to fit a large crowd of 1000, which probably meant it held about 1500 people on busy nights. That was way too many people to search for traces of alien drugs. Maybe there'd be a way to narrow it down.

There was a dark wooden bar with a few stools at the far end of the room, heavily packed with expensive alcohol bottles of different shapes, sizes and colors. Next to the bar there was a corridor, closed with a velvet rope and he assumed, a guard. He couldn't see past it from where he was sitting so he turned his attention back to the Novikovs.

'Impresive resume for such a young age, Mr. Ward' Ivan said, sitting in front of him with his brother.

'Thank you, sir.' He smiled but didn't add any information. He was reading every micro expression on their faces for the slightest hints of an ambush.

'Tell me Grant, how was working in Japan?' Pyotr inquired, definitely testing him.

'Confusing, at first. Didn't speak the language so it lead to quite a few anecdotes.' He was a good actor when he needed to be. 'But my boss was an easy guy, laughed at my confussion. Fortunately easy to protect as well, overall good guy.' He smiled.

'Yes, Mr. Kirosawa.' Pyotr remembered from his file. 'Did he give you any vacation time?'

'I had weekends off. He'd spend it with his family in Kyoto and another bodyguard he had there. I'd mostly stay in Tokyo getting lost in the city but I did visit Kyoto during the sakura season. Ate a lot of weird stuff, met a girl…' he added, playing with his previous idea. Suddenly, his Grant Ward persona was the oversharing kind. 'I actually have a date with her later… So, what's the job Butch told me about?'

Ivan nodded and Pyotr spoke. 'This nightclub. It needs extra security, kids get crazy'

'Yeah, he mentioned.' Ward replied, suspicious as hell.

'This club opens from Mondays to Saturday nights. We only close on Sundays. Most of the activity happens from Thursdays onwards, but the more regular clientele… well, they come here almost every night. ' Novikov added.

'Any sort of trouble I should know about?' Ward asked and he could sense Novikov's distrust in him. 'Any underage kids trying to buy their way through; any drug problem…?' he threw casually.

Butch glanced at his boss and that didn't go unnoticed by Ward. 'The usual stuff. There's always someone trying to deal, but leave that for the guys working inside. I want you at the door. I want you to check who comes in and out.' Pyotr answered.

Ward nodded.

The show was about to begin.


End file.
